Such A Fickle Thing
by ShintaruShimura
Summary: A soldier who sacrificed everything for a new world.


How I was born and raised had mattered greatly in this world. People would scorn you and your reputation. It was bearable to an extent. Being a shinobi is hard. Extremely hard. Every night, after the never-ending war, I would cry myself to sleep. The terror struck on your enemies faces never made me want to forget it. Their blood staining my bare hands as I killed them with my kunai. I can still hear them struggling to breathe... To just... Say one last word. Tears filled my eyes that day, that day where I killed them. Where I killed my own team. I can still feel their light pulses. Their beating hearts. It was all so amusing, dreadful and disgusting. But I was ordered. I was ordered to kill. To be a living, killing machine. Killing them... Had filled me with a sick sense of fascination. The entire feeling was quickly drowned out with guilt, horror and fear. If only I didn't follow orders. If only I haven't killed them and they would have survived. I trembled when I decapitated their limbs. I stared down with cold eyes, my body moved on direct orders. I killed them. I couldn't forgive myself. No one asked if I was okay, Hell, I don't think I am. What did I got rewarded with? I got nothing. They were puny, little lies. They were fake and I believed them, indulging in my little world. I wasn't pulled out, I wasn't asked if I were okay. I was told to take it like a man. And I did. I took it like a man. I was only a little kid. I could not explain why I did such horrible things. I wasn't a leader, I was a follower. I followed every leader into battle, and every leader I would follow would be corrupted or dead. I was so, so naive. I couldn't think past my own head. I thought everything would be alright if I followed.

But it wasn't. I lost so much and I wanted to reach out. I wanted to love, to be loved, adored, and comforted. But there is no such thing. Love? It is not real. We can only like and adore, but love is so far, far from us and far from our grasps, so why do we keep saying we love them? Comfort? In this sickening world, there is no comfort. You can stay with your family, with your friends, but you cannot escape from your past, your present, and the future you set up for yourself. There is no time for comfort during a war. You killed so many. No one can escape, but it's best to enjoy your remaining time with your family and friends. My life and other shinobi lives are running short. We may die today or tomorrow. Why? That's all I can think of. Why must we be shinobi? Why must we fight? The questions loitered in my head every day. Many come for the thrill of the battles, some are bloodthirsty, and some are just forced. Why do people pity civilians? The people they should pity is the hard-working shinobi who works their asses off by killing intruders and do all the work, and they are scarred for life. They had to sin, to use their inhumane body to fight long, hard battles. So, why do people scorn us? We work to protect, to win the war, so why? We are the one doing more work, stressing ourselves, so why? I never understood humans. They were all so fake. Until I had met Minato. He was amazing, he made me forget about my brooding. He was a strong man, and so was his wife. He lost so much, but he stood with his legs. He never let anything take over him. He cried on so few occasions, but I watched with rising interest. His wife, Kushina, was beautiful and extraordinary. Her, being the jinchuuriki, put stress on her body but she stood tall and confident. They were enviable. I envy them. They were so real with their emotions and feelings they never forgot how to feel human. They lived their best lives. So why couldn't I do the same?

Is it because I was so jealous? Jealous of everyone? I don't have anyone by my side. Minato, although, he was skilled, much more skilled than me says he will be by my side, I seriously doubt it. I can't bring myself to trust him. I was gullible for trusting others. I feel so alone. He was a light to all of us shinobi who lost their way. He was a great leader, I wished for him to become the hokage one day. I had given up my Kiri shinobi for Konoha's. I was a traitor. Kiri wasn't much different from Konoha, their rules are different but they were all the same. They would speak lies and no truth. I didn't want to become like them, so I escaped one night, I found myself in Konoha, they questioned me. They asked for my loyalty, I had none for either one, but to survive I said Konoha's. I am a fool. I fell into their trap. They ordered me to spy for them. I, regrettably, said yes. I couldn't go back. When I got back to Kiri, no one realized I was gone. It's not like anyone would realized I was gone, orphans are not missed. Orphans are tools for war. We were either sacrificed or forced to obey and fight for the delusional elders.

We never had a say in what we want. We tried so hard. Why are humans fighting each other? All that we want was peace. We fight our battles that we know we won't come back alive. We know, we know we are fodder in war. Kids from age 5 and older are sent out to kill. Sometimes, we don't succeed. Most of us die. We died serving our village. Those who survived had committed suicide. They couldn't stand it. I watched them kill themselves. They would cry and say, "I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore." It was all so much to take in. I've seen a lot of suicide attempts and it works. After they would slit/stab or hang themselves and I would be the one to bury them. No one was there for their death except me. I was the one to do everything. I know, that one day I would become like this. It terrifies me to the point where I was put under to be watched. Everyone thinks I'm suicidal. The war is killing me. And one day it might. I would attend other orphan's funerals and pray that they are in a better place. If there is a better place.

I would stare out into the beautiful, blue sky, wondering how something this beautiful was so ugly. It was a beautiful, horrifying world. It was hilarious. Why is it so beautiful? Just like the crimson blood that stained my hands. Like the death of the people who you once knew, apologizing to you for things that they shouldn't be apologizing. Or the faces of those who you once loved. It struck me hard. Tears rolled on my face. War is so ugly. They kill those who you love.

Why was I born in this place? It scarred me. It made hatred. It killed so many of us, and yet we still find it beautiful. And I stand alongside with it. I survived.

I am alive. I am breathing and that is all it should matter. The war is over. I am still alive. I endured hardships but I survived. I am now 26. It feels like an accomplishment. No orphans ever made it out of the war. Only I survived. I am considered a loyal shinobi. And one of the strongest. I have a family, I think I found love. I have so much pride for them. I would die for them. But they died for me. They died in this house that I used to live in and with great and sad memories. Kyuubi attacked. It was the hardest moment of my life. I watched them struggling to live. My wife wasn't a shinobi but she respected them. My son was an excellent pupil, he was so courageous. And I lost it all that night. The love of my life, the son who would call me "papa." I lost it all.

I can't live like this anymore. I hate this. I want someone to hold me tight. Please. I beg you.

I stood in front of a man. He said it won't be painful. I believed him. I told him that I want to die. He asked me if he can use my body once I was dead. I complied, I didn't have any need for this body. We stand face to face. The last I hear is.

"Rest well."

And the sound of a blade slinking into my heart.


End file.
